Blueside
by PlumCrazyPurple
Summary: Like everyone, SFC Jackson lost much in the pandemic. Family, friends, brothers-in-arms, but like any soldier would, as the world and the nation began to slowly put itself back together, jacks did her duty. But what she found along the way, she didn't expect. Rated T to be safe.


**A/N: Hey ya'll, this is my first TLS fic. Oh, what a journey it is setting up to be, haha! Hours of reading and researching have already gone into this little bit you're about to read, not to mention the next few chapters! The title, Blueside is a term used by navy corpsemen. When they're greenside they're on land, when they're blueside they are on the sea.**

 **And so you know, I will try to keep this as factually accurate as I can, but that may not always be the case! Haha! Sometimes writing takes a bit of a left turn and imagination takes free rein! Haha! Another thing I try to do is stay as true to cannon as possible, if I mess up the cannon, please let me know. Anyway, enough about me! I hope you all like what's to come!**

 **I will leave a glossary at the end of this chapter, that tells you what the acronyms mean and a couple other things mean.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the TLS universe, just my oc's and their stories!**

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 **Prologue**

Army Sergeant First Class, Gloria "Jacks" Jackson made her way down the narrow white corridor to the Nathan James officers lounge. Her ACU camo covered arms were weighted down with binders, pamphlets, and notebooks. The latter, full of her own scribbled notes. Lifting one dark eyebrow, she thought again how unfortunate it was she couldn't say she was passing any of these out. They were her own personal reference materials, the smaller, more condensed versions to be passed out were already waiting for her down this corridor.

Stepping out of the way of an apprentice sailor moving toward her, she smiled faintly and nodded her head as he passed before she continued on her way.

Despite her reasons for being here, there was a certain amount of irony in a member of the 101st being fettered to a ship. Screaming eagles, as they were called, were known for a few things, but not a one of them was being on a boat.

And it seemed somehow even more ironic to her that since she boarded the Nathan James two days ago, she'd been experiencing nothing but seasickness. She wasn't a queasy person. As a special operations combat medic she couldn't be, but her stomach had started rolling almost the minute the ship cast off and showed no signs of quieting. Another newly developing issue, was a not so slight case of claustrophobia. She had discovered herself feeling that unfortunate problem since she climbed aboard and was shown to her bunk. She was a soldier, and both of those things she could deal with, but she would be glad when she would have a chance to step foot on land again.

She had no doubt, her old unit would find lots of amusement in her being where she was. There would be lots of fun had at her expense. She wasn't certain what it would be, but if they could think of it they'd say it. Probably something to do with "swabbi's" and birds and cages or wing clipping. And a ration of those old jokes about sailors, specifically redesigned to fit her situation. The slight smile curling her lips, straightened as the feeling of unease that always accompanied thoughts of them, hit her. The situation in the Middle East was so chaotic, she still had no idea if any of them had survived. Despite knowing it was unlikely, she liked to hope so.

Her mother had said it was "but by the Grace of God," Jacks hadn't been on deployment with the rest of her unit, when Red Flue reached pandemic levels.

Jacks wasn't so certain, God's grace had much to do with it. And further more she would rather leave God right out of this one, but that was one thing she had yet to tell her mom. In all actuality, the second battalion under the 101st had spent a few months in Costa Rica training local military. Instead of being deployed back to Afghanistan with the rest of them, Jacks had been pulled stateside for a ten week training block covering advanced CCC, battlefield and trauma medical training, and AIT, and those were the how's and why's of her being stateside.

Shoving the memories aside, Jacks focused on the tasks awaiting her just on the other side of the door. Opening it, she found she was not alone. Lieutenant Green was already present, setting up the room.

"You're early, Lt. Green," She said as she closed the door behind herself and moved to the table, setting down the stuff she carried, and neatly organizing it. If she had expected to find anyone here early it would have been Doc Rios. They'd spent sometime the last couple days going over some the training program she was about to start.

Giving her the same friendly smile he had when the met a few days ago, Green said, "don't you army types say, fifteen minutes prior to fifteen minutes prior, SFC Jackson?"

Returning his smile with one of her own, she shook her head. "Something like that. Corporeal's, tell their men to be there fifteen minutes prior to the fifteen minutes prior we sergeants tell them." No one really said exactly what he'd said, it was just an old army saying about the time advancing fifteen minutes each step down the line. Obviously that old adage hadn't been first in her mind this morning, she was barely ten minutes early herself.

Nodding his head, he continued distributing the materials that had been left lying in the center of the table. "CO, wanted me to introduce you to the others." Before she could say a word, he spoke again, "how are you settling in?"

"Let's just say a Naval Destroyer, is not something I'm used to." She offered wryly.

Within a second of her speaking the door opened. She turned to find Doc Rios entering followed closely by a young man and women she hadn't met yet, but she knew their names. The young, bespectacled women with reddish hair and pale green eyes, almost the same color as Jacks's own was Tam and the man was Ellis.

Green waited for them to find their seats before he spoke. "This is SFC, Jackson, of the 101st. She's here under orders to train us in new procedures in combat medicine, just implemented at Fort Sam Houston before the Red Flue. CO wants you to know he expects excellence and wants you to treat SFC Jackson with the same respect you would treat any visitor aboard the Nathan James." Stepping back, he moved to the table, giving her the floor.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Green," Jacks said, clasping her wrists behind her back, she waited for him to be seated before she went on. "First off, let me tell you all, I'm not a teacher," she began again, shaking of her head at the same time. "The Army thought otherwise, but I'm not. I am an SOCM.

Like most of you, I'm the medic first and a soldier second, and both at once if and when duty calls. But not a teacher. I go by, Jacks so feel free to address as such and I will address you by your last names." She met each of their gazes as she went on. "I'm here because I was one of the first class pulled in for this new training program and with your mission being so vital and time of the essence, I was attached to the James to train you. We all have the same core MOS training and have studied the same books.. " Jacks was not unaware she probably could have left that last part out or the fact she sounded far more formal than she needed to, but what she'd just said and was about to say wasn't much different than how she'd have talked to those she'd have trained if she'd have ever made it back to Afghanistan. "Since the military introduced the 68W MOS Field Handbook, into standard training the combat casualty survival rate has jumped to ninety two percent.

And before the global pandemic, they had decided to go a step further and start integrating parts of Special Forces 18D training into the 68W MOS standards. This includes advancement on your AIT in battlefield trauma, minor surgical skills, sustained care and an update of some other producers outlined in your T-Thriple C.

It was an accelerated course, even for me. But I had ten weeks and you have eight. Luckily the program been trimmed down from what it was at Fort Sam Houston."

 **Sydney**

Wolf Taylor negotiated his way out of the door of the relief center at Sydney's, Victoria Barracks, his arms weighted down with a wooden box full of flour, rice and other sundries, then headed across the parking lot to his sisters jeep. The late afternoon sun painted the sky to the west in brilliant colors, varying from orange and fuchsia to dark purple. They were just visible over the old brick buildings and sandstone walls, the hour was casting in shadow.

The sunset was one of the things Wolf Taylor always forgot when he was away from home. He didn't exactly forget that the colors were brilliant but after a time away they always surprised him. Coming back to find his country in chaos didn't change how beautiful it was.

He had hoped the first flight to Sydney he could four and a half months ago, not knowing what to expect. The foremost thought on his mind was finding his family. His stomach twisted with the thought, both of his brothers had died along with their families, but his little sister, Jenny and her husband, Ned had survived.

All anyone had really known was Australia had been decimated by the plague, but that hadn't even come close to preparing him for the reality when he stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac at Moscat. There was less infrastructure than there had been in the states. There had been looting and exodus's from the cities, as people tried to get away from the virus. All that had really achieved was to spread the sickness into some of the smaller communities scattered across the outback and the high country. Many who had been lucky enough to escape the plague, most likely died from exposure. The deaths tolls were enormous.

His sister and her husband had been living in Sydney when the plague broke out and when he found her apartment empty, part of him was relieved. He had been telling himself for months, Ned would get her out of the city and back to the small farm they had grown up on several hours from Alice Springs. That hadn't been such a comforting thought as he traveled cross country in search of them.

Lifting the heavy wooden box into the back of his sisters jeep, his gaze snapped over his shoulder when he heard, "oh, bloody hell!"

Suppressing the laughter brewing his chest, he watched her trip over the thong on her left foot. As if she knew he was silently laughing, she was already casting an irritated look in his direction. Instead of fixing her thong, she limped across the parking lot toward him, throwing the long end of her dark ponytail over her slim shoulder, glaring at him and shoved the box she was carrying into his arms. The only thing she said as she reached him was, "piss off."

Wolf lifted his brows as her scowl darkened and put the box in the back of the jeep as well, refraining from pointing out she had persisted in wearing those things even though she knew they were broke. Two seconds later, when the aforementioned thong went flying by his head, he still didn't say a word.

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 **Another Authors Note: Hi, I hope you all enjoyed this! So here are a few things I thought I would tell ya!**

 **The saying Fifteen minutes prior to fifteen minutes prior really is an army thing and swabbis are sailors...**

 **Also, I'll try to cut back on the acronyms as much as possible, but for now here's a list of this chapters.**

 **SFC- Army Sergeant First Class**

 **SOCM- Special Operations Combat Medic**

 **MOS- Miliraty Occupational Specialty**

 **AIT- Andvanced individual training**

 **T-Thriple C or TCCC- Trauma Combat Casuality Care**

 **68W- (68 Whiskey) is Nato coding for Special Operations Combat Medic**

 **18D- (18 Delta) is the Nato coding for a Special Forces Sergeant Medic.**

 **Also, I didn't write this out, but Army and Navy medics, take their medical training at Fort Sam Houston and as far as I understand their isn't a whole lot of difference in the Trauma Combat Casuality Care and AIT fundamentals.**

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 **Thanks for reading! Please be gentle... :)**


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